Oops ...

The odds are against a rider who hopes to win any race two years in a row. Guys like Eddy Merckx, Sean Kelly, Lance Armstrong, Miguel Indurain, and even more specifically Fiorenzo Magni, Achiel Buysse and Tom Boonen, are not just in the minority, but statistically improbable. Prior to Boonen's 2006 repeat at Flanders the last repeat win at Flanders occurred in 1973.

Such knowledge is unlikely to soothe the frustration Filippo Pozzato, Philippe Gilbert, Martijn Maaskant or Heinrich Haussler feel at Stijn Devolder's escape at the Muur de Gramont. After all, you're supposed to bet against the dark horse ... but just how dark a horse is a Belgian strongman whose greatest annual rendezvous is with the muur? Odds aside, letting last year's winner go at any race is unwise, to say the least.

Somehow Devolder was able to recover and attack and leave the other strongmen—favorites all—gasping on the Gramont's steepest pitch. Neat trick. The unlikelihood of Devolder's win evaporated as soon as his gap reached 10 seconds.

So what's this spell for the future? Devolder will find it more difficult to punch his card in a solo break. And Boonen now has undeniable competition within his team for leadership at Flanders as long as he and Devolder remain on the same team. Thanks to Devolder for making the a bold, memorable and ultimately fruitful move, but what's Boonen to do?

Image courtesy John Pierce, Photosport International.

San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, Part II

Bruce Gordon is a man with a Reputation. Whether you think him principled, unconventional or ornery, if you've crossed paths with him or anything written about him, one fact always gets conveyed: He doesn't care what you think. Not about him, his bikes, the weather, tea from China or the latest Britney melt-down. If ever there was an iconoclast, Bruce Gordon deserves the monicker.


Unfortunately, that label has obscured what his real reputation ought to be: Super-Genius, Wile E. Coyote notwithstanding. I came to a conclusion while looking at his bikes at the show and realized that perhaps I've been more obstinate than he. I've been amazed by his bikes for more than a dozen years. Amazed, I tell you. But for reasons I'm embarrassed to admit, I've never thought of him the way I think of Richard Sachs or Peter Weigle. Those guys are a delight to talk to. Hell, Brian Baylis can be crotchety and he's easier to talk to than Gordon. And for that reason, I don't think I've ever accorded the man the full measure of respect his work deserves.


Take this bike, for instance: a lugged-titanium, single-speed upright with disc brakes. Who would even want such a left-field rig? Well, me, for one. In a way, it sums him up. Fringe, from the wood-inlay headset courtesy of Peter Gilbert at Cane Creek to the asymetric lug design. Too pretty for the fixie crowd and too weird for most roadies. Yet it showcases abilities easily disguised by Gordon's incredible talent. I spent the better part of five minutes trying to find out how he constructed it.

Me: "Okay, so it's lugged ti. How'd you do it?"
Gordon: "It's press-fit."
Me: "Whoa. Wow. How'd you get the tolerances?"
Gordon: "Nah, I'm kidding."

And on and on. He pulled my leg three or four different ways before he admitted that the tubes were bonded to the lugs and the lugs were milled from bar stock. Beyond that, when I tried to ask about how the lugs were welded and cut he'd only say, "Nah, there are a lot more steps than that and I can't tell you all of them."


He did admit that he consulted with Ross Shafer about bonding the handlebar sections into the clamp. Shafer called back a short time later and said, (slow sucking sound) "Yeah man. It's Ross. I know how to do it."


At the San Diego show visitors to his booth were so blown away by his fabrication that several asked if he made the carbon fiber fork and the hydraulics as well. Gordon chuckled, and shrugged off the suggestion, and while anyone knowledgeable of framebuilding would find the idea of fabricating a disc brake system from scratch laughable, the misunderstanding is a testament to just how good his work is, just how capable he seems. Without a single weld bead visible anywhere on the bike, one can be forgiven for thinking he could machine tiny moving parts with a chopping block and a carving knife.



The crisp paint by Joe Bell does much to accentuate the frame's unusual construction and the exemplary surface finish of the titanium tubing.


Such simple details as the fastback seatstays understate the incredible workmanship that went into fitting the tapered ti seatstays into the seatstay plugs.


The carbon fiber fork was custom built for him to include the disc brake mount, by hand. While it used a mold from a now discontinued product line, the fork is a one-of-a-kind.


In his case, it's a point of pride. Gordon is a man dissatisfied that he hasn't sold more frames made to his exacting standards and lofty aspirations. Unlike Brian Baylis who seems to be able to find buyers for his most outlandish creations, Gordon's best work sometimes goes unsold. To the degree that he might be bitter about that, it shows. And that may be the key to his sales, unfortunately. To paraphrase Chris Farley, he's not a people person. That's okay, neither was Glenn Gould, and no one questions his genius.



Asymetric lug designs aren't exclusive to Gordon, but he's more likely than not to cut lugs in some fashion not reflected in playing cards. No harts, clubs, spades or diamonds in his work.


Compared to eye required to carve such artful lines, polishing the stainless steel in these lugs is easy.


Another touch for which Gordon is famous: fully integrated accessories. From braze-ons for fenders, racks and lugs to specially crafted cantilevers, racks and toe clips, Gordon often fabricates far more than just a frame. Were you to see a Gordon frame with no decals, you might not guess who built it. The same cannot be said of a Richard Sachs or even a Peter Weigle frame. Each builder's work is of a piece; you can tell a Sachs frame at 50 paces. You can also tell one while riding it. I can't tell you a thing about how a Bruce Gordon rides or even how he likes to fit a bike, but one thing is certain: Each new creation is unique. From the lug designs to the materials used, no two are quite alike these days. If you want to know who the most original, surprising and creative builder is out there, you'll need to find someone more original, more surprising and more creative than Bruce Gordon. Good luck.

San Diego Custom Bicycle Show, Part I

The San Diego Custom Bicycle Show was born of the efforts of a few San Diego-based builders. Pictured at left is Dave Ybarrola of Ybarrola Bicycles, Persechini Classic Cycles and Selle Logica saddles, and Chuck Schlesinger of Sadilah Handmade Framesets at right. Dave and Chuck along with Brian Baylis dreamt up a more regionally based framebuilders' show. Naturally the benefit to exhibitors and attendees both is the opportunity to work with someone local, to build a relationship with someone you can be in touch with by more than phone and e-mail. Were more builder/buyer relationships like this—local, that is—more people would be riding handbuilt frames. This first gallery is devoted to the work of these builders.


Sadilah is named for Schlesinger's two daughters, Sadie and Lilah.


Very choice arrowhead lugs and wraparound seatstays on this bike.


Selle Logica is a custom carbon fiber saddle line Dave Ybarrrola shares with partner Matthew Cooke. They use crush foam to mold the saddle in the shape of your hindquarters.


Persechini is Ybarrola's fancier line with more elaborate lug work while Ybarrola is his line of more straightforward race bikes.



Baylis. As good as it gets.

Chasing De Panne, Part II

And suddenly it was. What I had expected to be a ride of an hour and change was rapidly approaching two hours. When the Bouyges Telecom team bus passed slowly a few kilometers outside of Middelkerke, I tried to jump in its draft. Somehow, it accelerated too quickly. But a team station wagon was behind it, and the driver motioned for me to jump on. So I did. I knew they wouldn't get lost en route to the race. At a bit over 35mph on this narrow two-lane road, I got burned off. So the second team station wagon slowed a moment, and motioned for me to jump on. So I did. When he slowed down for a fast left turn, I jumped back to the first car. And suddenly we were in Middelkerke. And I saw te Katusha team bus at the next light. I rolled up to follow them. Then they were heading into an empty parking lot! Must be wrong.

It wasn't. De Panne starts along an ocean-front promenade.

When the race headed south at exactly 11:55am, I waited until the team cars passed, and then headed north. There's a promenade all the way from Middelkerke through Oostend, and it doubles as a bike path. Parallels trolley tracks even.


When I got to the station, after getting directions there from an elderly woman on a bike—mangled Flemish so badly, she assumed I was speaking German—bought my ticket to Gent. An amazing thing, despite all the bike parking at train stations around Belgium, they charge you five Euro to take your bike on the train. And they don't have bike racks on trains like they do for most regional rail in France. Guess they're afraid of the thousands who leave their bikes at stations taking them on.

It was similarly difficult leaving Ghent as it was Brugge. No map showing roads leading out of the city, the Michelin map not detailed enough. Figured south based on the train station. Suddenly, once again, it was easy. Saw a sign for a town that was on my preferred route, and got off the main road. N-44 had a distinct bike path, but it wasn't as direct, as what I saw on the map.

Had to consult the map a few times as I came to unmarked traffic circles and tiny villages. Even rode over a few hills. Crested one hill, and a small city was atop the next rise a kilometer away or so. Zottegem. Must be, as there were two helicopters overhead. Kept on my road, and got to a crowd watching team buses set up. Again.


The race passes through Zottegem, then goes out for a lap of the hills, and returns for the finish. Was I ahead of the race, or behind? It was 2:30, over 30 minutes before the race was supposed to pass through, according to the time estimates provided by the promoters.

When I saw the finish line, and was able to get to within two meters of it, I was pretty sure I was ahead of the race. Time to sit back on the top tube and work on translating the announcer's Flemish patter.

Special thanks to BKW friend JP for the post and images.

Chasing De Panne, Part I

The goal was to see the start and finish to Three Days of De Panne's stage one. Seemed like a good way to ride around the Flanders countryside, see the ocean, and get a feel for their trains.

A great thing about travel is that you're often forced out of your comfort zone. It can be what makes travel challenging. The simple things you take for granted, can suddenly get pretty hard.

As anyone who has chased bike racing around Europe can attest, until you get the hang of things for both a region and a race, most of the adventure is just getting to see the event. That's why I'll stick to telling the travel adventure first, and race reflections second.

My first mistake was assuming that since the race had De Panne in the name, the first stage went there. Should have been paying more attention. While the stage started in Middelkerke, right on the water, it finished in Zottegem. That meant I'd be riding west from Brugge, then east. Only it was a long haul from Middelkerke to Zottegem. Seemed like it would be at least 100km. That would be on top of the 32km to the coast. And my plan was to race the next day. So it was ride to Middelkerke, ride to Oostend, train to Gent (through Brugge), then ride to and from Zottegem, which should be about 25km each way.


As easy as it is to get around urban and suburban Brugge, it is hard to go from one place to another. There aren't an abundance of street signs offering up road names. Circles don't have any compass-point directions or roads that have directions in them. There aren't many signs giving directions to a particular town, unless you're on a main road, and you're looking for the next town. And despite the relatively small size of the region, people don't seem to know their way several kilometers radius past their home or office, even the police.

I'd leave at 9am. Get to Middelkerke around 10:20, allowing for getting lost a bit, snack, lounge, check out the circus that is racing in Flanders. Then after the start, speed to Oostend, grab a little lunch, get to Ghent around 1:30 or so. Be in Zottegem by 2:30, see the race pass through around 3, check out Zottegem, maybe sit in a bar, eat frites and watch the stage on television, see the race finish, ride back. If the race was moving quickly, I'd be back in Brugge by 6.


According to Google Maps, the ride to Middelkerke should be about 20 miles. And it looked like a pretty straight line. But I couldn't print out the directions. No problem, there's a gas station down the street. I'll buy a map of Flanders there on my way out the door. Looks like it's en route anyways. Riding to Oostend should be easy. Should be 4-5 miles. Just go north along the coast. Zottegem similarly easy. Ride South from Ghent. Fifteen miles. So 55miles for the day, and so long as I'm timing things right, I should be able to spin easy the whole way.

The race would be moving quickly. The day dawned warm and sunny. Great conditions for a fast race.

When I tried buying a map of West Flanders at the nearby gas station, they were completely out of Michelin maps of Belgium. They did have much of the rest of Europe, though. Guess people don't need maps to get around.

So I figured I'd head west. I had a rough map of the region I brought from home thanks to the Belgian tourist office. Just needed to find town names at roundabouts now and again. Could always head for Gistel or Oostend and correct myself once I got near those place.


Not so easy. As I tried heading west, I kept on getting diverted south. When I passed a second gas station a few miles later, I bought a map. Of Belgium and Luxembourg. That's all they had. Huge mother. Got to Zelegem. Saw signs for the police station. Turns out there's a bike shop across the street. Closed Tuesdays. So I asked the police. First response when asking directions to Middelkerke by bike. "You can't get there from here." But people were asked, and they showed me the way. They had me going further south before going north, then west.

I started on the recommended route. Veered off a few miles later, when I saw I could go through Aartrijke en route to Gistel. Could have gone directly from Zelegem, if only the police could have figured. There was an open bike shop there. The guy gave me directions through Gistel. Looked easy.

Special thanks to BKW friend JP for the post and images. Check back for Part II.

2009 Kuurne-Brussel-Kuurne

Driedaagse van West-Vlaanderen

A special thanks to TK for the pictures

2009 Omloop het Nieuwsblad

Team BMC - Equipment Truck

It's indisputable that the BMC team is one of the tidiest, cleanest looking teams in the world of PROfessional cycling. Its appearance to the outside world is rooted in simplicity and punctuated with bold, solid colors. BMC's PRO Machines pair the black of the multi-directional carbon with big, bold white graphics, emphasizing clean lines. The Swiss flavor continues with Assos' sponsorship, and if riders were to choose their PRO team by clothing sponsor alone, team BMC would have to issue numbers à la N.Y. deli style.

Surface appearances aside, the BMC team threads this clean style through every part of the team's appearance. Last year the highlight of my AToC was setting eyes on the mechanic's dream that is the BMC equipment truck; even if your cycling mechanic duties have stopped just shy of removing your front wheel, you'll have an appreciation for the well-organized and streamlined team truck. To a mechanic, stepping onto the loading ramp is almost a religious experience. The interior of the truck is outfitted with a custom stainless steel endoskeleton that provides a home for 26 bikes and 96 wheels. The fab work was done by a cycling fan and expert in stainless work. The work done on the BMC rig may seem like a fabricator's pipedream, but when you consider that his day job is building tanks and processing equipment for wineries, you have to wonder if this guy has the secret to living the good life.

During the Solvang TT, BKW grabbed a few minutes with PRO mechanic Vincent Gee and got the nickel tour of the truck and gear that strikes fear in the hearts of PRO teams.

BKW: What factors were taken into consideration when laying out the truck?

VG: Volume. We needed to get as much equipment and gear into the truck as possible in the given space. I think we're doing pretty well given the space but every mechanic is always going to want more.


BKW: How self-sufficient is the team?

VG: We are self-sufficient for a pretty lengthy time; there are stretches where the truck will be on the road for 3-4 months without a return to the service course, so we need to be prepared for that, bike-wise, wheel-wise, for everything. We can't be without.


BKW: How does the truck get from stage to stage or race to race?

VG: We have three full-time mechanics, Ian Sherburne (head mechanic), Andy Stone, and me. We rotate the responsibility of driving the truck. I like driving the truck; it's medicinal. During this race, I was the hotel mechanic, so I go from hotel to hotel and I basically never see the start or the finish of the race. I go from hotel to hotel and I hook up power, find water, and help the soigneurs get the luggage done. As soon as the team returns to the hotel, we are washing bikes within 15 seconds.

BKW: How important is the location of the team truck at the hotel?

VG: For me, it's very important. It either makes your job easier or harder. I have been fortunate to have a little luck on my side and a director who allows me the time needed to get to the next hotel in a quick manner so generally I am getting the pick of the litter for the best parking spot. In San Jose, I was the third or fourth team there, but hands-down I grabbed the best spot. It was raining that day and we had shelter. Only one other team had shelter.

BKW: Has this year's AToC thrown any new challenges at you, with all of the constant rain?

VG: I look at the challenges as ways to improve and to get better, the rain is tough because we have to wash bikes and wheels constantly. People ask, "don't you get cold"? Well, of course, but as long as you have the right gear. The right rain gear, the right screw driver, the right truck, a properly stocked truck, the right equipment makes the job fun even when its pouring rain. This year we had two days of washing bikes in pouring rain and, to me, it really wasn't that bad. We were prepared.

BKW: What steps are taken when the riders return from the day on the road?

VG: Each rider's bike is washed head to toe. The bikes are show pieces so we need to show the public we have beautiful bikes. Periodically, we wash the spare bikes. Especially if it is raining a lot; the spares are on the roof of the cars. The day before yesterday I washed 17 bikes. Luckily the weather was nice.



BKW: Do you change the tape daily?

VG: No, as needed, we don't have a fixed maintenance schedule. It's not like a car where you change the oil every 3,000 miles. When parts begin to wear we will change them immediately and as needed. In rainy weather the tape gets dirty. We run white tape, which I feel is quite beautiful, and in rainy weather it gets changed more frequently.

BKW: Do you replace chains on a scheduled interval?

VG: No, chains depend on riders, weather, mileage, and it's is a combination of those three aspects. It is not as simple as every 10th day, or a certain mileage. But with that said, we change items frequently, we change chains or or any piece of equipment not because it is bad, but as a preventive measure. We can't afford to take a chance. There is a lot riding on the bikes performing.

BKW: Any special equipment for AToC?

VG: Everything we ride is available at your local shop. The frames are stock, the Campagnolo, DT, Sella Italia, Easton bars, and stems. Gearing-wise we are lucky to be on eleven speed this year, the 11-25 cogset is our bread and butter and will be in use for 97% of our races. That is pretty cool for me because I will not have to change cogs as much.

BKW: 39/53t chainrings?

VG: 39/53t is very common. Every once and a while we will change out to something special, but for the most part it's 39/53t.

BKW: Any special tires for the rain?

VG: No, just pressure; we adapt for the wet. Running lower pressures.

BKW: Does pressure depend on rider or do you have a formula?

VG: We have a general rule of thumb, occasionally riders will request something special, but it is pretty rare. Ninety-nine times out of 100 the riders are happy with the pressure we choose. They rely on our expertise and we rely on their feedback.

BKW: Are you gluing tubulars on a schedule?

VG: Only when flat. Our tires last a long time, Continental has been very good to us with both quality and quantitiy, we start the season with a good supply of tires. I have only glued tires at AToC to replace flats, but I feel pretty lucky there were only a handful. We finished the Tour of Quatar with only 5 flats total. Some teams flatted 5 times a day. I felt we were very lucky. Continental's R&D and their knowledge of tires in motorsports really makes my job pretty easy. They give us great products.

BKW: What's the hardest part of your job?

VG: Not getting to the bar fast enough, the gin and tonic is too far out there. Every job has good and bad; for me the good out weighs the bad 1,000,000 to 1.


A special thanks to Vincent and Andy for their time, and the next time we see each other, the gin and tonics are on us.